


Plural

by whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Pale Polyamory, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re broken. You must be. This is three, <i>three</i> trolls now you’ve fallen pale for and that’s simply not how it <i>works</i>. You have one moirail, your soulmate, the <i>one</i> troll who fits alongside you better than any other. Not two. Definitely not three. It could probably get you culled, the same way that almost everything else on this stupid planet could probably get you culled, and you’re stupid and sick and a pervert and scum on the face of Alternia for having such fucked up genes and such a fucked up thinkpan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plural

You learn about moiraillegiance the way everyone does: from schoolfeeds and movies and books and the internet, sometimes, though you always have to be careful of assholes trying to spread misinformation for the hell of it. And it seems simple and perfect and pure, the idea of that special _one_ , who’s there for you and doesn’t care that you’re a mutant and you’d look out for each other, watch each other’s backs, you’d help each other with your problems and die for each other if it came to that. 

Eventually, of course, you realized you could never have a moirail. Even if someone ever did manage to fall pale for you, you’d never be able to return their feelings in good conscience. Being in a quadrant with you is a death sentence. You’d never be able to do that to someone you care about.

And then you fall diamonds for Kanaya. 

You’ve always liked her; she’s fierce and beautiful and strong and she doesn’t take anyone’s shit, which you can admire -- but there’s softness there, too, you’ve seen it when she talks about her plants and her lusus and Vriska, sometimes. You don’t realize what it is you’re feeling until the first time you talk over webcam and you see how tired she looks. She tells you she had to stay up because there’d been some sightings of undead in the area and she couldn’t afford to sleep even though she’d been up the previous night taking care of her sick lusus. You ask her if she’s okay, because you need to know, need to make sure, and you don’t realize what her quick, cutting look means until later, when the call is already done. 

The heavy queasiness that weaves its way through your gut threatens to make you sick. You clasp a hand to your desk to steady yourself, and when you realize that your first instinct is to message Kanaya and talk to her about it you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry so you do both.

You don’t say anything.

Even when she starts to ask you questions (GA: How Are You Feeling Today Karkat GA: I Would Say Tonight But You Seem To Be Up Late Once Again GA: Really You Need To Sleep Better And More Often) you don’t say a word. It tears you apart because this is your chance, this is your jade opportunity to have that dream of everything you ever wanted, but you’d never forgive yourself if you took it. You think, bitterly, angrily, that it couldn’t get worse than this.

Of course you get proved wrong.

You don’t allow yourself the luxury of ignorance when it comes to your feelings toward Terezi. But again you know you can do nothing so when she assumes it‘s red you don‘t correct her. She teases you for being after her heart when all you really want is to shield hers with yours, to tell her you _understand_ during those rare moments where her façade of Judge begins to slip.  1 C4N PR4CT1C4LLY T4ST3 TH3 CH3RRY SYRUP DR1PP1NG FROM YOUR T3XT K4RK4T she’ll say and you’ll type LIES AND SLANDER because it’s true, they’re lies, it’s the wrong shade of red she’s tasting but of course she always thinks you’re joking. And it’s terrible. You hate lying, as necessary as it for you, but here you are, lying to your pale crush like the piece of shit you are.

You expect your crush on Kanaya to fade. It’s sensible, right? You’re pale for Terezi now, so you can’t be pale for Kanaya, of course not. The thing is it doesn’t fade at all. It’s still there, still taunting you, and two pale crushes now, _at the same time_ , what the fuck is wrong with you?

When you start feeling that familiar ache in your chest when you talk to Eridan, you fail to even be surprised.

It makes it worse that he already acts like you’re pale, at least over Trollian; spilling out all his problems to you, or the ones that matter, hinting his true feelings about Feferi in a way he probably thinks is coy until you finally bite and say it for him. You could’ve managed, knowing he already had her and she had him and you could never ask him to cheat on her, but finding out he’s not really pale for her at all sparks a treacherous flame of hope in your chest, _you have a chance, he could be yours_ \-- it makes you sick. It makes you sick and you’re so tired. You can’t stop yourself from offering a pact: if he’s ever in need of a stand-in moirail, come to you. You’ll be there. CA: holy crap kar thats CA: i mean CA: are you sure and it shouldn’t be funny, that he asks that, as if concerned about your feelings and giving you an out so you don’t feel obligated, but it is, it’s so funny you actually crack a smile when you type back YES, YES I’M SURE, YOU BILGEPUKING NOOKSTAIN.

You make yourself sick.

You’re broken. You must be. This is three, _three_ trolls now you’ve fallen pale for and that’s simply not how it _works_. You have one moirail, your soulmate, the _one_ troll who fits alongside you better than any other. Not two. Definitely not three. It could probably get you culled, the same way that almost everything else on this stupid planet could probably get you culled, and you’re stupid and sick and a pervert and scum on the face of Alternia for having such fucked up genes and such a fucked up thinkpan. You’re fucked up and you’re miserable.

The Game happens and people die and people come back to life. People you care about and people you love and people you don’t love as much but are still your duty to look out for. When the impossible happens and you become moirails with Gamzee for one beautiful, shining moment, you can’t believe it. And then you don’t, because after the first serendipitous shooshpap he disappears and in the aftermath of it all you think: You were never really pale for him at all, were you? But it’s okay, because you’re the freak who can’t seem to settle for one conciliatory partner so why not one more? Doesn’t matter if you actually feel anything at all, right? He’s your friend either way, or was, and you’ll do this. You’ll do this because you have to and you’re the only one who can keep him in line. (Or, would, if he was around at all, which he’s not.)

When you find your Dancestor counterpart in the bubbles you’re speechless, literally, until he says something about quadrants and your attention narrows down on that so fast it almost hurts. The look on his face when you interrupt would be priceless, really, except for the way he squints in thought. You can almost see the gears turning in his head.

What y9u’re referring t9 exists, 9f c9urse, 9r at least did 9n my incarnati9n 9f 6ef9rus. While n9t a particularly c9mm9n practice -- n9t t9 say that I’m using “c9mm9n” in its textb99k definiti9n in a negative c9nn9tati9n -- pale p9lyam9ry is 9ne 9f many am9ng the spectrum 9f quadratic preferences; spectrum, 9f c9urse, n9t 6eing used in reference t9 the hem9spectrum in any way, shape, 9r f9rm, 6ut simply as a gradient 9f ideas, alth9ugh 9ne’s definiti9n 9f “simple” may 6e different than mine, th9ugh that’s a t9pic f9r an9ther time. I was in fact peers with a tr9ll wh9 identified as p9lypale, and after a few in-depth discussi9ns with her I was t9ld that n9t 9nly was it quite fulfilling, 6ut a surprisingly fluid exchange, with her 6eing moirails with multiple parties that weren’t pale with each 9ther. I never g9t the chance t9 have a talk with her m9irails 6ef9re the game started, th9ugh I’m sure it w9uld have 6een quite 6lah 6lah 6lah 6lah 6lah 6lah 6lah 6lah

It blows you away.

The idea that you might not be as much of a freak as you thought, that there have been others that have felt the way you do, that you might be able to make this work; it’s _exhilarating_. You’re floating on clouds for almost a full hour afterward before reality eventually comes crashing down. Even if… “pale polyamory” was a thing back on Beforus, you’re not there. You and the rest of your friends grew up on Alternia, with Alternian ideals. No amount of preachy lovey coddle-y Beforan bullshit will change that. You carry on, that brief moment of dead hope leaving a heavy hole in your gut.

The Game ends. Just like that. The Game ends and everyone is alive again and you’re all left to pick up the broken pieces of yourselves and it’s so beautiful it hurts. The humans are fine, mostly, but your ragtag group of beaten friends are jagged edges that barely line up like they used to, half of them staring at each other in distrust and the other half looking away in guilt. It will be fine, you know, as long as you can get your shit together and roll up your sleeves and make them fit again. You’ll shout at them until your throat’s raw. Maybe they’ll listen this time.

Things get better. It’s a new experience, for all of you. It takes a while before you stop waiting for everything to come crashing around your horns but that stops too, eventually. 

Things get better except for the three aching spaces in your thoraxic cavity that you can’t seem to shake no matter how hard you try. After all this time it should be easy to keep up with the routine, or what you have left of it. And it is. But you’re slipping, you think, maybe you seem a little more tired of everything than usual, because you keep getting second glances. Keep getting _subtle_ questions about your health, your sleeping habits, your food. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal. The fact that it’s three faces, three voices, three text colors that nag at you the most is what wears you down. Even if being quadranted with you isn’t dangerous anymore, there’s still the fact that what you feel isn’t _normal._

Eventually it gets to the point that you can’t take it anymore.

You open up a memo, set it to invite only. Add three trolltags to the list and prepare to lose three of the best friends you’ve ever had as you lay everything out before they can say a word.

When you’re done there’s only silence in the memo, for a while, until almost at the exact same time there’s a small chorus of Well Fuck and OH and holy shit. You send back a YEAH and THAT’S ALL, REALLY, SORRY FOR BEING SUCH A MAJOR FUCKUP, I’LL JUST GO BACKFLIP INTO THE SUN WHERE I CAN’T BE A PIECE OF SICK PERVERTED SHIT IN YOUR GENERAL VICINITY.

Their next responses surprise you.

GA: Karkat Hold On   
GA: I Dont Know About The Others But Im More Than Willing To Give This A Try   
GC: Y34H   
GC: 1 M34N 1 4LW4YS THOUGHT YOU W3R3 FLUSH3D FOR M3??? BUT   
GC: TO B3 HON3ST THE JUDG3 HAS NOT B33N COMPL3T3LY TRUTHFUL IN R3G4RDS TO H3R F33L1NGS TOW4RDS TH3 D3F3ND4NT TH1S WHOL3 T1M3 31TH3R   
CA: holy shit   
CA: i just   
CA: you mean that pact was   
CA: oh   
CA: OH   
GC: D33P BR34THS F1SHF4C3   
GA: Actually If I Take Part In This Am I Obligated To Also Give Pale Affection To Ampora Because If So I Dont Believe This Will End Up Working Out On That End   
CA: yes   
GA: What   
CA: no I mean yes I wwant to try the thing that kar just described wwith all of us   
CA: not wwith you kan like really   
GA: Oh Thank God   
CA: rude

You start to cry, until you have to hold your husktop away so that you don’t get pink drops on the screen. You have no idea what’s happening, no idea at all. You don’t dare to question it. You sob a laugh into your palm and watch the memo with blurry vision and, you think. This can work. This will work.

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

**Author's Note:**

> apparently the way to ~~not really~~ beat writer's block is to write to spite someone
> 
> alrighty then


End file.
